


Outfits to keep

by Ginny_Potter



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, belated pride month celebration, sometime after cw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 16:36:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19727536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ginny_Potter/pseuds/Ginny_Potter
Summary: “Hey! It has my name on it!” Steve complains, trying to get it back, not really putting his heart into it. He displays his best Captain-America-is-disappointed-in-you voice as he says. “Reading someone else’s mail is a federal crime, Sergeant Barnes.”Bucky raises his gaze from the letter, smiles sweetly, leans towards Steve with heavy lidded eyes, looking straight at his mouth, and his hot breath caresses Steve’s lips as he whispers. “Kiss my ass.”





	Outfits to keep

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!  
> Soooo, this is my first work in this fandom and it's basically idiotic fluff.  
> The idea came to me this past Saturday during London Pride when I saw a guy wearing the tee shirt Bucky is going to wear in this fanfic.  
> It's mostly fluff. And unicorns. And rainbows. And Pride.  
> Sooo Happy Belated Pride Month!  
> Lots of love.
> 
> P.S.  
> English is not my first language so please tell me if you spot mistakes.

A week in the field and the letterbox explodes.

Steve groans, looking at the disjointed mechanism and mentally curses the mailman. Why can’t they just slip the papers gently inside? It’s not like they stayed away six months. He crouches to start disentangling the mess when Bucky swiftly slips by his side, presses his fingertip on the hidden panel on the upper corner, turns his key in the doorknob and pushes the door open. The crunchy sound of crumpled leaflets gets on Steve’s tired nerves even more than the mailman’s recklessness. He opens his arms as to say ‘What the fuck?’, fatigue running through his squatting thighs, but Bucky doesn’t even look at him, steps on the mail and disappears around the corner, leaving muddy prints all over the parquet.

Steve sighs, then leans his forehead against the half-opened door.

It’s been a long week.

A shower does it. He feels less battered up and a bit sleepier but he figures he should at least disentangle the mess from the letterbox before going to bed. Also, it’s 3 pm. Also, they are not great at sleeping without nightmares after a mission.

Tony has tried to tell them a thousand times that that a fucking letterbox in a not-security door is just calling for even more trouble than a non-security door alone, but Steve had been unmovable. He didn’t want to live in a golden prison like Stark Tower. He wanted an honest-to-God normal house. An honest-to-God normal brownstone house with a lawn and a backyard and a dog someday and neighbors. When consulted on the matter, Bucky had just shrugged, then he installed a booby trap that they have to remember to disconnect every time they open the goddamned door. Steve has almost been electrocuted to death at least three times in the last month.

He slips in sweatpants and a hoodie before approaching the clump of mail. Most of it is fliers, a couple of letters that look like fan mail – Steve has no idea how that manages to come through since his official address is still Stark Tower – bills, because, yes, even Captain America pays for electricity and then what looks like a shiny… invitation. He blinks, confused.

“Steve? Did you fucking finish the shaving cream again?”

Steve lifts his gaze from the paper to look at a disgruntled Bucky peeking from the downstairs bathroom with damp hair and a towel thrown around his shoulders.

“There’s some in the ensuite,” he mumbles, distracted. “Sorry, didn’t think of replacing it here.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and disappears again inside as Steve piles up the mail on the kitchen table, dividing it into even stacks. He keeps the flier of a new Russian place around the corner – it amuses him to see Bucky invite Natasha over for Russia night even if neither of them has a _real_ knowledge of Russian cuisine nor of its cinematography –, throws away the others, goes through the few letters from fans – one of them has the address written with crayons and it’s so _so_ sweet – and leaves the bills in a corner; finally, he slumps in a chair with the shiny invitation in his hands.

“What’s that?”

Steve starts. Gosh, Bucky really is a ghost. He passes by, distractingly brushing Steve’s shoulders with his metal hand as he goes and opens the fridge. Steve follows him with his eyes. He has not shaved, but his beard is trimmed with precision – _scissors_ , he thinks – and his hair is curling on his shoulders as it dries. He smiles fondly. He still struggles to get used to this – the mundanity of it, having Bucky in his life again, in a _house_ with him, living a life neither of them had ever imagined before.

He catches the apple that Bucky throws without turning at him from the fridge. It’s ripe but not ruined. He grins and his smile widens as Bucky hops on the counter, still waiting for an answer. He bites on his own apple – a green, crunchier one – looking at him curiously. Steve takes him in: his eyes are alert but he has bags of tiredness under them; everything in his posture screams relaxed and home-y, he is barefoot and he’s wearing a tee shirt Shuri sent him for his birthday – it has all the bright colors of Wakanda and some design of a wolf that made Bucky smile; his dark, vibranium arm makes a strong contrast against all the oranges and greens and yellows.

“It’s an invitation,” Steve finally says, and slips a finger underneath the back flap, opening it.

“An invitation?” Bucky bites again on the apple and a droplet of juice lingers on his bottom lip. Steve is suddenly distracted. Bucky’s tongue darts out to catch it and Steve is even _more_ distracted. He clears his throat and Bucky smiles wolfishly.

“Yeah, I know, I’m very sexy. Invitation, Rogers. What’s that about?”

Steve slaps him on his knee and Bucky takes advantage of his distraction to effortlessly snatch the envelope from his hand, taking out the folded sheet inside.

“Hey! It has my name on it!” Steve complains, trying to get it back, not really putting his heart into it. He displays his best Captain-America-is-disappointed-in-you voice as he says. “Reading someone else’s mail is a federal crime, Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky raises his gaze from the letter, smiles sweetly, leans towards Steve with heavy lidded eyes, looking straight at his mouth, and his hot breath caresses Steve’s lips as he whispers. “Kiss my ass.”

There is a moment of silence, then Steve bursts into a hearty laugh and Bucky flicks his nose, before going back to the letter with a satisfied half smile. Steve loves this, loves the fact that Bucky can crack jokes again, when he is in a good mood, and – Steve learnt in the last few months – Bucky is often in a good mood after a mission went well. He is working on his new no-killing policy and he is doing a good job, all things considered.

“Well, this is going to be interesting,” Bucky says, as he reads, and his tone sounds half perplexed, half intrigued.

“What is it?” Steve asks and Bucky turns the card towards him.

> To Captain Steven G. Rogers and Sergeant James B. Barnes
> 
> It will really be a great pleasure to have your warm presence beside AVER-NY in the New York City World Pride Parade on June 29th 2020\. We will be honored if you come to the celebrations of the 51st anniversary of the Stonewall Rebellion in NYC in 1969 and we will become more delighted with your auspicious presence.
> 
> We march as Proud Patriotic LGBTQ+ veterans carrying the American and Rainbow flags.
> 
> We march in neat casual clothing, but you are welcome, as veterans, to wear your uniforms, however uniforms must be complete and inspectable.
> 
> Hope you will able to put some time and can join the march. And we hope that you will provide us with a positive response. Your presence matters to us more than words can express.
> 
> Thanking you
> 
> Yours truly,
> 
> BM Michelle Martinez
> 
> American Veterans for Equal Rights President

Steve blinks. “Oh.”

Bucky licks his lips, eyes still on the formal letter in his hands. “Yeah. Oh,” he confirms.

“This is– ” Steve knows he is chocking up.

“We should go,” Bucky blurts, without looking at him, but his voice is firm, a strange expression looming in his eyes.

Steve feels something melting inside and warmth spreads everywhere in his body, making his fingers tingle.

It was no secret that Captain America and the Winter Soldier had been more than friends for a while, now. Well, they had always been something more – they both knew it – you don’t break seventy years of conditioning for anyone, let’s be real, but well. It’s not like the Thirties had been a great age to come to terms with what would become almost a century of… _connection_. Nor the battlefields of Europe. Not even a stolen Quinjet or the rooms of a Royal Palace you occupy for a couple of nights. Some conversations need time, and courage and, apparently, the calm of the countryside and the red sunsets of Wakanda. They also need losing each other too many times to count.

Then, when the nostalgia had been too much and they had to come back to New York… the whole situation had to be taken care of. _You don’t want to end up on the cover of some stupid magazine_. Pepper Potts had said, with her soft smile and her let’s-get-shit-done attitude. Bucky, Steve knew, would have much preferred ending up on the cover of some stupid magazine he could ignore instead of being tucked up in a suit and sat beside Steve in a room full of journalists. So yeah. Press conference. And tons of variation on the ‘Captain Bisexual’ theme on ninety percent of the newspapers of the world the following day. Tony had collected them all and made a noteworthy collage on the living room wall of Steve’s apartment at the Tower. Lovely.

Bucky did not say anything, but the glare he reserved for paparazzi every time they tried to snap a picture of them jogging at Prospect Park made Steve think he was not very keen on parading around on a stage.

Not that Steve was particularly excited of the fact that his life had been, once more, scrutinized. The backlash of the coming out had been harsh, both on a political and on a personal level. From a certain point of view, he had received more hatred for the fact that he had openly admitted to be in a romantic relationship with Bucky Barnes than for his betrayal of the government of the United States not even two years before. This notwithstanding, Steve was more used to be in the center of the storm, and, also, the focus of gossip and idle chitchatting.

Bucky, on the other side.

He had been a ghost for so long, Steve had thought that the careless boy who thrived in the spotlight had been long forgotten. In another life, Bucky would have been so amused by the tabloids and the media attention. He would probably even enjoy it. Making fun of journalists, posing for photos, making up over-the-top declarations. Yeah. Another life.

But.

“We don’t have to.” Steve says, just to give him a way out.

 _You don’t have to. Captain America probably should._ At least, this is what Pepper would believe. What half of the publicists at Stark Enterprises would tell him. _As you make your bed, so you must lie in it._

Bucky’s expression is unreadable. Sometimes he does that, hide everything from everyone. Even from Steve. He jumps down the counter, abandoning the invitation on the dark countertop. He leans against the sink, hands pressing forcefully against the smooth surface.

“Buck,” Steve starts, not sure how to proceed.

“I went to the VA with Sam, when I was in DC for that thing, last month,” he says, slowly, without looking at Steve.

He hasn’t mentioned it. Neither of them.

“I stayed there for one of Sam’s meetings, just listening, on the side. When it finished and everyone walked out, this kid came to me, he looked a bit like you before,” he hesitates. “But he uh, he came to me and told me, he just straight up came to me and told me: Thank you for the interview,” Bucky sucks in a mouthful of air. “Just that. Thank you for the interview. Nothing more. He shook my hand and went away and I,” he turns around and looks at Steve and his eyes are stormy and grey and Steve feels the need to get up and squeeze him so to take all the breath from his lungs. “We fight aliens, Steve. We kick the ass of purple aliens and shapeshifters and we just avoided a nuclear crisis like four hours ago. Heavens, there are sixty goddamned five degrees in New York in December and people give shit to kids because they shove their tongue in a supposedly wrong mouth.”

Steve definitely wants to get up and hold Bucky till _they_ stop breathing.

They look at each other for long moments and Steve feels such pride and love and affection that he may explode.

“We should go,” Bucky says again. “It’s not fight to walk away from.”

“Yeah,” Steve’s heart feels too big for his chest. “We should go.”

So, they end up answering to BM Michelle Rodriguez.

Bucky does it, with a handwritten letter and all the flourish of 1935.

*

Then, a sleepless night and too much time spent on the magic world that is the Internet after, Steve goes to Tony, because he looked at his old uniform from the war and decided that was not what he wanted. He goes to Tony with a notebook full of sketches, as he did a lifetime ago with his father, in a bunker in London.

And Tony Stark is _delighted_.

So that.

That may mean he overdid it.

*

“How many people were there last year?” Steve asks through the door, as he zips his brand new uniform.

“Around five million,” Michelle Martinez says promptly from the other side and he can feel his heart falling a bit in his chest.

Around five million.

Five.

Million.

Like, two Brooklyns.

Adrenaline runs through his veins.

He raises the shield.

*

Bucky doesn’t see him – for his express request – until he steps outside the van right before it’s their turn to join the march.

He looks at him, stunned.

“Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me.”

*

“When Captain America announced he was going to join the Pride March this year we were not expecting such a change in his look, what do you think, Martha?”

“Oh, not at all, Greg. He told the press he was going to join the Veterans for Equal Rights but they usually march in casual clothing.”

“Just came in, Tony Stark takes ‘complete merit’ for the new look!”

“Is Tony Stark’s Iron Man joining the march as well?”

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see, Greg.”

*

“Pink and purple is the new star and stripes,” Natasha singsongs in the intercom, and Steve smirks.

The uniform he designed and Tony created has _some_ pink and purple in addition to his usual blue. He found out on the Internet that apparently these are the three colors that make the bisexual flag and that’s, well, what he is. That’s what he identifies with.

He had been very clear when he had spoken to the press, months before: he didn’t care what they said as long as they did not taint the memory of Peggy. He had loved her so much, from the bottom of his heart and he still loved her, dearly, reverently, and he would have not allowed them to twist what they had or could have had.

So, his uniform is blue, as usual, but the stripes on his abdomen are pink and purple and his gloves are pink, as his boots are purple and the straps that hold his shield in place are rainbow. And the shield – and that was all Tony – well, it changes. Every time the sunlight hits it, depending on the angle and on the shadows projected and on the position from which the observer looks at it, it changes color. It’s as though a rainbow has fallen on the concentric rings and on the shining star that for so long has been and keeps meaning so much for so many people. And this – Steve thinks – this is how he can be important even when he doesn’t fight, without being a chorus girl. This makes a difference.

Today, Captain America is not wearing a helmet because he wants everyone to see – everyone of the five million people here this day and the millions who are watching on TV at home – he wants them to see that Steve Rogers is there for them, and he cares about every single one of them, no matter their sexuality or gender or anything. That he is one of them.

Beside him, Bucky is, well, less conspicuous.

His hair is pulled back in a bun – and Steve can’t stop making fun of him for his hipster-y obsession with that hairstyle – and his hands are deep in his pockets. A little girl has stuck a rainbow star sticker on his shoulder, where the red star once was, for Bucky’s amazement, and there is a very precise rainbow flag painted on his cheek. Not one stripe is thicker than the other.

But his tee shirt. His tee shirt made Steve crack.

It’s black, white, squared letters printed on it. No logos, no bright colors, no designs. Just plain white on black.

Deadpan.

The world has worse problems than boys kissing boys and girls kissing girls

Bucky is walking at a Pride Parade in 2020 and has a rainbow flag on his cheek and a rainbow star on his arm and he wears the most savage tee shirt Steve can think about and it’s all there, all that in a hundred years has made Bucky Bucky.

And Steve thinks, as he quietly slips Bucky’s hand out of his pocket and intertwines their fingers, that’s it, that’s all that matters, written in white lettering over a black background, clear as day.

“Bucky?”

He looks at him questioningly, but there is a defiant smile on his face and, even if Steve knows he is nervous – too many people, too many variables – and probably has five or four knives hidden somewhere on his person, he seems at ease. He is happy. They are happy.

So, Steve leans in and kisses him.

*

@ma_vaffangufo: grumpy gay bucky is best bucky

@winterboyfriends: Passive aggressive WS t-shirt is what dreams are made of. Go Bucky Barnes!

@americasbiass: can we all agree that’s what cap’s going to wear from here to eternity?

@frozenbfs: still thor shoulda suggested a rainbow cape

@pepperonismyfavepizza: @frozenbfs yOu wANT to HiDE tHat S-H-I-E-L-D?

@frozenbfs: @pepperonismyfavepizza: OMG DIDNT POP UP ON MY TV YET THATS SWELL!!!!!

@captainbarnes: THEY KISSED

@captainbarnes: ON LIVE TV WORLDWIDE SHIT AND EVERYTHING THEY KISSED

@captainbarnes: DEADEST

*

“Did the Iron Man just showed up covering the parade in rainbow smoke?”

“That’s ally goal, Greg.”

*

When they separate, people are cheering so loud Steve is pretty sure is going to go back being half-deaf.

Bucky is still looking at his lips as he smirks. “You’re keeping the outfit, right?”

Steve feels unable to stop smiling. “You know what? It’s kinda growing on me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the  AVER  website! I basically took the invitation from here.  
> Artists who draw bi suited Steve: I LOVE YOU. You make amazing art and I basically described the fanarts I found online.  
> I apologise if I stole any Twitter account: I basically made them up on the spot, except for one: I love you, wifey.


End file.
